


two nights too few

by orphan_account



Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Drunken Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Some implied internalised homophobia, i just wanted to do a stupid tropes fic, idk how to tag, kind of, strange attempt at a slow burn, the captain is the personification of gay panic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27605897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: this chapter is quite short because my brain paused while writing so it's left like this.
Relationships: The Captain/Lieutenant Havers (Ghosts TV 2019)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	1. The man I can't recall

**Author's Note:**

> this chapter is quite short because my brain paused while writing so it's left like this.

The week had been less than ordinary for those who inhabited Button House. Nothing particularly eventful happened, days faded on as everyone went about their work. The only impact the dreadful grey weather had on the soldiers was that it dampened their mood exponentially nobody expected a full week of storms mid summer.

However for the Captain the gathered clouds that readied to storm was a reminder. The harsh rain that poured during his patrols caused him to relive his memories of the trenches- thinking of all the gunshots, explosions and the dreadful stench of death that lingered everywhere. 

The Captain tried to avoid those memories being triggered as much as possible. So when he could, he avoided the rain. 

***

The whole Saturday had been nothing but downpour, the sun had barely shone and it had already reached the evening. 

In means of distraction, the Captain moved back to his desk in his office and reached for the whiskey he kept in his drawer. That, and he thought watching the men leaving to go to the pub through the window for so long was rather creepy. 

Time passed as the Captain was more or less looking distantly at his window, rather than drinking and noticed that his desk was beginning to become cluttered with papers, so he decided that he may as well organise everything to pass the time. After some time of the man filing papers and collecting loose documents into piles for later, during this he had noticed an unopened envelope addressed to him.

 _‘Good lord’_ he thought to himself, rather hoping there was nothing too important inside. He opened it, and it was important.

There is a new Lieutenant to be arriving this week, the name of the man was _William Havers._

‘Good Lord’ said the Captain, this time out loud and rather louder than he anticipated. He wasn’t entirely sure why the name stirred such emotion in him, the Captain was (at first) rather sure that he even knew a man named William Havers. But nevertheless he felt rather panic stricken. He needed some air. 

  
  



	2. The night to forget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a flashback, sorry if the language or the writing is a bit off.

The Captain had been sent back home after he got shot in the leg in France. He was unsure whether he was glad about his return or annoyed. He felt certain that he would have healed in time to go back to fighting fritz first hand. Instead he was back in England, limping around like a wounded dog. His mother took it as an act from god, saving her boy from his certain death, he was glad she could feel less alone, since the Captain’s father was presumed dead during the First World War, she shouldn't have to worry about losing someone else. At least he has been promoted to Captain and is to start in an establishment known as ‘Button House’ in two days, this at least felt like a positive to the wounded man.

This one particular evening had the man filled with energy, and he decided to leave his mothers cottage. So he wandered into the quiet town. Eventually entering a pub to rest his forsaken leg. 

The other men inside seemed far too jolly for the circumstances of the country. Didn’t they know there is a war going on, men facing death to protect our homes and they were singing and laughing. The man wanted to leave, but his leg needed rest, so, against his angered heart, he ordered a gin and sat in the corner and pulled out a book that rested in his pocket. 

The well thumbed notebook filled with sketches of flowers and landscapes, wasn’t his. It belonged to his fellow soldier called David that the Captain grew rather accustomed to during his time in the trenches. David was only 27 and his optimism was in par to his relative youth. The young man would always say to the Captain that the war would end “any day now”, and that he would go back home and paint the rolling fields of the english countryside that would sell for at least fifty pounds. How the Captain missed him. The notebook keeps him alive for the Captain, he would go through it when he needed comfort or simply missed him. He remembers the look on David’s face when he died, it always struck the Captain how the young man smiled with grief in his eyes while holding the others face, how his last words were “I lov-

“Is this seat taken?” said an unfamiliar voice that interrupted the Captains train of thought.

The Captain looked up to make eye-contact with a man holding a pint and a sincere look. 

“No.” and that was that, no more conversation with a soon to be drunk village man, well at least that’s what the Captain thought.

The unknown man sat down rather than taking the chair like the Captain assumed he would. 

“Great, I’m William, William Havers” He held out a hand across the table, for the other man to stare rather dumbfounded.

“Oh, yes I am a Captain” he looked rather confused at his own statement and didn’t shake Haver’s hand but instead took a sip of his gin.

“Ah, I suppose that explains the leg,” the Captain shifted uncomfortably at the remark, somehow avoiding eye contact that he already wasn’t making, Havers picked up on this and changed what he was going to say “I am only training cadets at the moment. I must thank you for your service. It is incredibly brave.” 

The Captain felt rather unsure about what to say in return, the energy he felt at home had faded slightly, so he said nothing. The two men sat in silence, the Captain still looking over Davids’s sketches and taking gulps of his gin while Havers drank and observed the other man. 

“Sorry to interrupt but those sketches look quite incredible, you seem to be rather talented” The Captain looked up for the second time and made eye contact with Havers at this statement. He seemed to think that the other man’s eyes seemed to ease any anxiety the Captain had built up inside of him. 

“Ah yes, well they aren’t mine. Given to me by… my friend, to give to his family.” The Captain lied, the book was for him and he knew it, but he felt surprised that he responded to William’s statement at all. 

“Oh! They are just remarkable” Havers smiled his eyes making the Captain feel at ease again, “I always wished I could draw, poetry has been more of my calling, even if I am quite dreadful at it.” He smiled again. And to his surprise, the Captain smiled back.

“Come now, I’m sure your poetry could beat Byron’s any day” he chuckled at his statement, and the Captain assumed it was the alcohol that is making him be so open, and Haver’s longing glances were just imagined. 

The Captain looked at their empty glasses and debated buying a drink for both of them, but Havers beat him to it.

“Let me buy you another drink, I haven’t had any good company for a while” He smiled again, and the Captain smiled too.

“I- um. Yes, thank you Havers. But you must let me get the next round” It seemed it was the Captains to smile first. 

“Sure thing Captain”

“Please, use my name Theadore. I guess Ted is easier” They both smiled just as much as each other. Like giddy school boys. 

***

The men drank and talked about nothing in particular. The Captain’s mind was no longer on the war or the obnoxious men in the pub. It was just Havers. 

“Good Lord, it's nearly 2200 hours” The Captain broke out of their conversation after checking his watch, startled by how quickly the last four hours have passed. 

“My God, I should be getting back” Havers replied, rather startled by the passing of time.

The two men who were considerably drunk wandered out of the pub and through the streets, Havers holding the Captain to help support his walking. Laughing in the streets. Then they stopped at a door, and went inside to what the Captain could only have guessed was Haver’s home.

***

He couldn’t remember anything else. Just flashes of smiling, laughter and the way Haver’s eyes twinkled in the moonlight. How his hands gripped his waist as they walked. He must’ve gone back home, he was undressed to his underwear. 

After a while the Captain opened his eyes, his head beating heavily. He groaned at the immediate discomfort of existing, then he heard a shuffle. This wasn’t his bed. Not his home. He turned around and recognised the back of the head lying next to him. 

_Dear God, what had he done._ His mind began racing with all of the worries of being caught, and not that he had just spent the night with another man. _Good Lord,_ is he a _homosexual?_ No, no of course not. Friends, he supposed this is what friends do? Good God he felt so unsure about everything at that moment. He had to go. 

After he dressed and moved to leave, something tied him back from leaving just yet. The Captain shuffled to the bedroom to see Havers one last time. 

The man was spread across the bed now, slightly hugging the pillow that the Captain was once sleeping on. He seemed to be incredibly radiant, even asleep. Feeling rather out of his mind the Captain moved forward and planted a small kiss upon Haver’s forehead, and memorised what he could see of the man's torso, he noted the freckle on his left shoulder and chest. This felt so sinful, and so beautiful at the same time. 

The Captain left. Went home and claimed to have stayed with a girl overnight. He spent the rest of the day resting in an attempt to soothe his leg and hangover. Later a bath, where all he could think about was sharing it with the man he wish he could forget. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed it, kind of getting used to writing now but the way I phrase things can be weird to read :)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, sorry if any wording was a bit off I'm getting the hang of writing fanfic. Not sure if i will write longer chapters or just write smaller ones frequently but we'll see :)


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